A New Arrival
by Allybee
Summary: It's several years after the gang have left Hogwarts, and two of their lives are going to change forever... RHr with a little bit of HG. Please read my first fanfic! COMPLETED
1. The Wrong Thing To Say

Chapter 1- The Wrong Thing To Say 

Hermione Weasley gazed blankly across her living room, her mind filled with worry. She had been preparing for this evening for days, but now that it had finally come she was anxious. There were so many questions swimming around in her head. How would Ron take it? Would he be pleased? Worried? Angry? What would she do if he wasn't happy about it? She had been so certain up until then that he would be thrilled- why wouldn't he be? They had been married for almost three years now- surely this was just the next stage in their relationship? 

Her worries were momentarily paused by a loud popping sound, as Ron Weasley Apparated into the living room with an irritable look on his face. 

 "Hi, sweetie," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice steady, with only limited success. "How was work?" This was precisely the wrong thing to say. 

 "Dreadful." Ron replied grumpily, plonking down beside Hermione on the sofa. "I was rushed off of my feet the entire day- I didn't even have time to eat lunch!" Hermione wasn't sure why he sounded so surprised- he had known perfectly well when he started working in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes that it was a demanding job. "Twelve different call-outs, including one case where these three kids- couldn't have been any older than perhaps 7 or 8- managed to _explode_ a roundabout in a Muggle park, though god only knows how! Well obviously everyone saw- it injured _six_ people, and it took us hours to sort it all out! And because we had to do all these Memory Charms on Muggles, we had a _ton_ of paperwork to sort out! Honestly," Ron scowled, " I don't know what those kids were thinking! People shouldn't be allowed to have children if they can't keep them under control! I'm so glad we haven't had any. I'd expect we'd probably be the _worst_ parents in the world!" He sighed. "Anyway, how was your day?" 

He looked over at Hermione, whose eyes were filling with tears. "Hermione? What's wrong?" Hermione didn't reply, but instead stood up and dashed out into the hallway, slamming the door behind her. He immediately went to follow her, but when he open the door he found that she had Disapparated. 

He closed the door slowly and walked back over to the sofa, shaking his head. What had he done now? All he had done was come in, sit down and tell her about his day. Nothing so awful in that, was there? 

He ran over what he had said again, but drew a blank. Maybe she was fed up with him moaning about his work? No, he reasoned, if that had been it she would just have yelled at him like normal. So what the hell could it have been? he thought angrily. She'd been acting really strangely recently- going off in a mood for no reason and crying over the stupidest little things. What if she wasn't well? He suddenly remembered that she had been sick every morning for the past few days, which definitely wasn't normal. The only people who throw up that often are either really ill or…

Suddenly the answer hit him between the eyes like a pile of bricks. "Oh my god…" Ron breathed. "She's pregnant." 


	2. Some Sisterly Advice

Chapter 2 

****

Ginny Potter opened her front door to find Hermione standing there, on the verge of tears. "Oh no," Ginny sighed. "What's he done now?" Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but the only sound that emerged was a high-pitched blubbering.

"You'd better come in," Ginny said gently. "Harry!" she yelled. "Could you put the kettle on, please? Two teas, milk, no sugar!" And with that, she led the ever-more distraught Hermione towards the living room.

"Sit down- I'll get you some tissues, and then we can talk this all over," Ginny said, pointing Hermione towards the sofa. She tossed her the box of tissues from the side table, then headed towards the kitchen to speak to Harry.

"Harry?" she said quietly, sticking her head around the doorway.

"Yes, love?" he said as he handed her two mugs of steaming hot tea.

"Could you do a few things for me, please?" she said sweetly.

"Sure. Let me guess. I have to make up the spare room, look out some extra pyjamas, and tell Ron that Hermione's staying here tonight, right?" he said witheringly. They had run through this routine so many times in the past five years that they didn't even have to think about it. "What has he done now, like?" 

"I don't know, but it must be pretty bad," Ginny said wearily. " She was actually crying."

"Well, you go sort her out, okay, sweetie? And if it's anything big, come and tell me."

"Sure," Ginny said, pecking him affectionately on the cheek, before heading back to the living room, where Hermione was successfully working her way through the entire box of tissues. She laid the mugs down on the side table before sitting down next to Hermione.

"So what's wrong, 'Mione? It isn't anything _too_ awful, is it?" 

"He… he… he…" Hermione spluttered, before breaking down into tears.

"He… hasn't had an affair, has he?" Ginny said tentatively. It was the only thing that she could think of that could possibly have got Hermione in such a state.

"No! He said… he said he didn't want _kiiiids_!!" Hermione howled.

"Oh, no, come on now, 'Mione, I'm sure he didn't really mean it!" Ginny said, mentally kicking her brother in the shins. " I mean, you're only 23, he probably just mean that he didn't want kids _right now_."

"But we're having them right nowww!" Hermione continued to wail. "I'm _pregnaaaannt _!" And with that she broke down completely.

"Oh, god, Hermione, I'm so sorry! I had no idea!" Ginny said, taken aback. "It's OK, Hermione, I'm sure it'll all be OK- I mean, he probably didn't mean it, he probably wasn't even thinking when he said it, you know how often he puts his foot in it…" she rambled. Ginny's words appeared to be making her even more upset. She noticed Harry standing beside the door, looking bewilderedly at Hermione, who was now sobbing on her shoulder. Gently, she said, " 'Mione, I'm just gonna go get some more tissues. I'll be back in a second, OK?" Hermione gave a muffled sob, which Ginny chose to read as a yes. She proceeded towards Harry, grabbed his wrist and hauled him along the corridor and into the spare bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What on earth's wrong with her?" Harry asked, alarmed.

Ginny sighed resignedly. "Oh boy. Ron has _really_ screwed up this time…"


	3. Waiting By The Fire

Chapter 3 

Ron sat there, thoughts coursing through his head. No wonder she had been so upset! He couldn't believe he hadn't realised before. He must seem like the most insensitive git in the world! How could he be so… so… urgh! He flung his head down on the table in frustration, a little harder than was perhaps sensible. A sharp pain shot through his skull. Great, now he had an angry pregnant wife and a concussion! 

He removed his head from the table top and stood up. He wandered desolately around the tiny kitchen, stopping to gaze out of the window at the city glimmering below. Somewhere out there there _had to be someone more foolish than him, though he couldn't think of anyone else at the time. No-one else went around causing disaster wherever they walked, did they? He never had Ginny appearing at his door in tears cause Harry had just said something massively insensitive. It was so unfair! He thought he had grown out of saying stupid things- they hadn't had a _really_ major argument in almost three years! Sure, they had bickered a little, but it usually blew over pretty fast. He was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen today, though. He buried his heads in his hands and let out a massive groan. "How could I be such an IDIOT?!?" he yelled furiously at himself._

"Well, Ginny reckons it's probably genetic- male side of the family only, of course." 

Ron let out a yell, pulled his wand from the pocket of his robes and spun around. "Who's there?!?" he hollered.

"It's me, Harry!" the voice said again. Ron gazed around, confusedly. "In the fireplace! Geez, you really _are_ an idiot!" he added, sniggering. Ron turned to face Harry's head. "I've been sent to inform you that your wife is, yet again, staying at our place. You figured out what it is you've done yet, or do you need me to spell it out for you?

"Yes, I know. How could I be so slow?!?" Ron sighed miserably, before continuing. "She hates me, doesn't she? Not that I blame her. I'm not all that fond of me now, either. It was such a _stupid_ thing to say, and the worst thing was that I didn't really mean it. I DO want to have kids with her, I really do! I was just in a bad mood. Though it's probably nothing compared to how Hermione's feeling just now," he added as an afterthought. "How is she?"

"Not so much angry as upset," Harry replied. "She thinks you're going to leave her if she has the baby."

"I can't believe she'd think that," Ron said sadly. "Harry, is it OK if I speak to her? I mean, only if she wants to?"

"Sorry, mate, she's asleep already. Ginny gave her a Dreamless Night Potion-Hermione's idea. Apparently she has some sort of big inspection at work tomorrow?" Ron smiled inwardly. Hermione took her job as a Healer at St Mungo's very seriously, and there was no way that she was going to let anything, even a family crisis, distract her from doing her work properly. "Anyway, I'll get her to call first thing tomorrow before she heads out." Ron obviously still looked very worried, because Harry added "Look, Ron, I'm sure it'll all be OK once you explain it to her. It was just a misunderstanding, after all."

Ron smiled wanly at him. "I hope you're right, Harry, I really do, cause I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't come back." He looked at his watch. "I should probably get going. It's pretty late after all."

"OK- see you later."

 Harry's head disappeared for a few seconds before popping back. "Oh, and one more thing, Ron," he said, with a wide grin on his face, "congratulations on the baby."


	4. The Morning After The Night Before

A/N: Right...this has been a bit of a dead fic- I did finish it, but never uploaded it at this site. So, in light of this, I've decided to add the rest of it, a chapter a day, till I'm done. Woot. Here's Chapter Four, then...

Chapter 4

Hermione woke up the next morning, feeling slightly groggy and bleary-eyed but otherwise considerably better than she had the night before. She got out of bed, pulled on the dressing gown that Ginny had so kindly lent her, and was heading for the kitchen when she ran headfirst into Harry. She stumbled slightly but managed to catch herself, which is more than could be said for him. She pulled him up from the floor, apologising profusely.

"It's OK," he said lightly. "Feeling better this morning?"

"Much!" she replied gratefully. "I'm guessing Ginny told you what happened with me and Ron?"

"Yeah," he replied, "but I spoke to Ron last night, and he's really sorry. He didn't mean what he said- he wants you to call him before you leave for work."

"I guess I better go do it now, then!" she said. "I've got to leave soon!"

"Sure- just use the fireplace in the living room if you want. The Floo Powder's in the blue vase. I'm just leaving now- those murderers won't catch themselves!" he added jokingly as he walked towards the front door. Hermione smiled- Harry always made jokes when he spoke about his work- he said his job was miserable enough without him acting all seriously about it. She had a funny feeling that he made a lot of these jokes to stop Ginny from worrying too much about him, though she knew that Ginny had perfectly good reasons to worry- a lot of the work that Harry did was _very_ dangerous. She mused this over as she flung a pinch of Floo Powder into the big granite fireplace. She watched as the flames turned green before sticking her head in and yelling " 36 Mullainey Gardens!". A few seconds later she was staring at Ron's ankles in surprise.

"Jesus, 'Mione, you almost scared the life out of me!" Ron's freckled face appeared in view as he bent down to address her. "I was just about to call- I figured Harry had forgotten to pass my message on!" The tone of his voice changed- he had obviously remembered the purpose of her visit. " Hermione, I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday evening. I was stressed and angry, but that is _no_ excuse for the way I acted. I was totally out of order and I understand if you don't want to forgive me." He said this all very quickly, and paused for a few seconds before adding as a kind of an afterthought "But I hope you do."

Hermione's felt a huge pressure lift from her chest. "Of _course_ I forgive you, love! I mean, it's not like you knew about… you know…"

"Your baby?"

"Our baby," she added with a smile on her face.

"Our baby… I like how that sounds!" Ron said, with a grin almost as wide as hers. "So you forgive me then?"

Hermione gave a theatrical sigh. "I suppose so. After all, you are my- " she grimaced, " – husband."

"Oy! Cheeky!" he replied, in a mock angry voice. "I'll have no more of that from you, young lady!"

"OK, sweetheart, I've got to go now! I'll see you later!"

"Hang on a second…" Ron lent forward and gave her a long kiss on the lips. "OK, now have a nice day, pumpkin! Oh, and try to get home on time- I'm gonna make you a special dinner!"

"Sounds great! Okay, bye!" she said, backing out of the fire. She stood up, dusted herself off and walked over to collect her cloak from the front door. She had just reached the cloakstand when she heard Ginny say behind her "So- is everything alright now?"

"You know, Gin," she said, crinkling her nose blissfully, "it's better than alright. It's perfect." And with that, Hermione scooped up her cloak and Disapparated with a dainty "pop".

Ginny smiled cynically to herself. She wondered how long it would last this time…


	5. Peace, But For How Long?

Chapter 5- Peace, But For How Long?

Hermione grinned broadly to herself as she walked back into her office. She had spent the entire morning daydreaming about what life would be like with a baby. Consequently she hadn't got a lot of work done, but for once she didn't really care. It was only when she absent-mindedly set fire to a small stack of parchment that she had managed to snap out of it. Sighing, she sat down at her desk and pulled her lunch that Ginny had packed for her out of her drawer. She gazed half-heartedly at the contents of the small box- two rather flattened ham sandwiches, a slightly bruised green apple and a flask of tea- before putting it back in it's original place. She was far too happy to eat. As she stared cheerfully at the blank wall in front of her, a small, freckle-faced witch with spiky black hair marched into the room, muttering angrily under her breath.

"Stupid, useless Enquiries desk… said no visitors… do they listen?…no, no-one listens to Co-" She suddenly stopped, gawking at Hermione. "What the hell happened to you? You haven't looked so bloody happy for years!"

"Nothing's happened…" Hermione said vaguely, before adding more sharply, "-and watch your language!"

Constance rolled her eyes. "Well I'm glad to see that whatever it is hasn't stopped you from nagging! Anyway, could you give me a hand, please?"

"Sure… with what?"

Constance gave a very loud sigh. "It's those idiots on the Enquiries desk!" she barked. "They've been sending visitors up to the floor all morning, and I specifically told them that we weren't letting anyone into the wards until the inspectors were clear out of the way! It's chaos out there- the corridors are chock full of people wanting to see relatives and such, and of course they aren't being allowed in! I really need you to help with sending them away- I'm guessing you're not busy, right?" She smiled. This was a running joke among the staff in their department- no-one who worked on the Spell Damage floor was ever "not busy".

Hermione smiled back. "I was just about to have my lunch- but I suppose it can wait." She stood up and walked out of the office with Constance, taking her daydreams with her.

Ron sat on the couch, looking impatiently between the doorway and the clock. Where was she? he thought to himself. He had asked her to try and get home on time! This was probably her punishing him for what he had said the night before, he reasoned angrily. Just his luck to marry a woman who holds grudges! He scowled at the doorway, as if willing her to appear. To his slight surprise the door flew open after only a few seconds of staring, and Hermione swept in looking exhausted. He opened his mouth to scold her but before he could say a word she cut in.

"I am so sorry, Ron! The department was swamped- it was an inspection day and the Enquiries desk made a huge mistake, and it took ages to sort out the confusion. I tried to get away but-"

"It's OK, sweetie," Ron said, noting that even though Hermione had had a bad day she didn't feel the need to march in and say stupid things. "You're here now. I've made your favourite for supper!"

Hermione bit her lip nervously. "Erm, no offence, darling, but I'm really not very hungry. Is it OK if we just sit here and have a chat?"

"Yeah, that's alright," Ron said, patting the sofa next to him. "What d'ya want to talk about?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know- everything, I suppose. Let's start with how you feel about the baby?"

"I'm, well… a little shocked, I guess, but I'm really thrilled." Ron paused for a second, a deeply thoughtful look on his face. "I've just realised something," he said, as though the thought hadn't really occurred to him before. "I'm going to be a dad. Some poor sap is actually going to have me as a father."

"Yes, well, I hope she doesn't inherit your brain!" Hermione said teasingly.

"She? You mean… it's a girl?"

"No, no!" Hermione said, blushing. " I just- I don't know, I always think of our baby as being a girl. Don't you?"

Ron frowned pensively. "Not really," he said slowly. " I reckon we're going to have a boy."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Well, there's no point in worrying about it. It'll be another 32 weeks till we find out, after all!" she said lightly.

Ron laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. By the way," he added, "who all knows that you're pregnant?"

"Well, there's you, me, Ginny and Harry," Hermione counted on her fingers, "so that's four. Oh, and the crazy old lady who lives across the road from them." Ron gave her a confused look. "When I arrived at their place last night she was out walking her cats, and she was giving me this really weird look so I kind of yelled at her…"

"What did you say?" Ron sniggered.

"Erm, nothing much," Hermione said, though the look of pure embarrassment on her face suggested rather the opposite. "Just that it was impolite to stare at distressed pregnant women and that at least I had a life instead of being some withered old hag with a beard and twenty million cats like her…" Hermione was now blushing so violently that Ron could practically feel the heat radiating off of her face. "Anyway, why do you care who knows that I'm pregnant? You embarrassed about me or something?"

"Of course not," Ron said. "I just want to know who I'll have to tell and who I have to expect calls of, "Hey Weasley! I hear your wife's up the duff!" from."

"Ah, men. Delightful creatures," Hermione said sarcastically. "Oh, by the way, how would you feel about telling your parents about the baby tomorrow?"

"That'd be okay," Ron said hesitantly, rather wondering where she was going with this. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason," Hermione said, standing up from the sofa. "Only we're having dinner with them tomorrow… at our place."


	6. Cleaning Interlude

I may as well add this second chapter; I am aware that it is skimpy, even by my standards, and if I were inclined I would change it, attaching it to another chapter or something, but I'm far too lazy for that and I've got class in ten minutes, so it' going up on it's own. Please don't hate me...

Chapter 6

Ron lay in bed, gazing despairingly at the ceiling. What had got into Hermione's mind that made her invite his parents over to the flat? They had discussed this repeatedly- his parents had always thought that their flat was too small, and he didn't want to encourage this image. The truth was that it _was _too small. The kitchen was barely big enough to swing a gerbil, never mind a fully-grown cat, and their "second bedroom" was basically just a broom cupboard with a futon stuffed in it and two shelves overflowing with dusty old books. Ron had had many discussions with Hermione regarding the abundance of books in their apartment- they were everywhere! Books in the kitchen, books in the living room- just last week he had opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, only to be battered by a barrage of dusty old medical textbooks which his darling wife had placed there "just in case"! In case of what? A worldwide book shortage?

Ron blinked furiously as the morning light flooded through his windows. Hermione had insisted in getting up at 7 o'clock, an obscenely early hour for a Saturday in Ron's mind, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get back to sleep. Glowering, he got out of bed and began to get dressed. It was just as he was searching for his socks that he began to notice some rather unusual things. Several bottles of magical cleaning solution lay on the sideboard, next to a very thick book with the words "Madam MacRae's 10,000 Handy Household Cleaning Tips" written on the front above a picture of a plump, curly haired witch who was smiling and waving her wand at a pile of dirty dishes. Ron gazed around, panic-stricken, before noticing a piece of parchment lying on the bedside table, with three of his least favourite words written across the top in Hermione's handwriting- "Chores For Ron". He looked desperately at the door, wondering whether or not to make a break for it, but before he could decide Hermione entered, wearing old robes and a vigilant look on her face.

"Ah, you're up!" she smiled sweetly. "I thought since your parents were coming over tonight that we might as well have a big spring clean! We're going to need one before the baby comes anyway, so we might as well get it over and done with now!"

Ron flicked his eyes towards the window, where his broomstick was leaning against the wall. He could head to Harry's- it would be a good ten minutes before Hermione got suspicious…

Hermione followed his gaze. "Don't even think about it, Mister!" she said reproachfully. "It didn't work last time and it's not going to work today! Come on," she said, shooing him along, "put on some old robes and make a start on that list of chores. Looks like it 's gonna be an all day job…"


	7. Dinner and Discussion

Chapter 7

Hermione hummed cheerfully to herself as she placed the dishes in the sink, poured half a bottle of Insta-Clean Dish Liquid over them and watched as the grease melted off. The evening had been a total success. She had managed to tidy almost every room in the flat and, aside from a small debate with Ron over the quantities of garlic she was adding to the meal (what could she say- she had a craving for it!), everything that she had cooked had turned out perfectly. Molly and Arthur had loved the apartment, thought her cooking was delicious, and were absolutely ecstatic about being grandparents. When they had told them Molly had actually squealed so loudly that poor Crookshanks had jumped about a mile in the air before disappearing under the sofa for the remainder of the meal.

Hermione waved her wand at the now-spotless dishes in the sink. They flew back into their places in the cupboards, closing the doors behind themselves. She walked back into the living room. Ron was hovering next to the front door in an attempt to persuade his mother to stop questioning him constantly about the baby, as she had done throughout the entire meal, and to depart.

"Okay, Mum, you really should be going soon," he said, with a rather exhausted smile on his face.

"Oh, nonsense, Ron!" Molly said cheerfully. "Hermione hasn't even seen those adorable baby photos I have of you in my purse." She turned to smile at her husband. "He was an adorable baby, wasn't he, Arthur?"

"He certainly was, love," Arthur Weasley said, with a smile not too dissimilar to Ron's, "but it's gone 11 now, and I really do think we should be leaving- after all, we don't want to wear Hermione out!"

"Oh, that's right, dear!" Molly said, smiling at Hermione. "I suppose you'll be needing plenty of sleep- its quite exhausting being pregnant!" She rose from the sofa and picked up her cloak. "We'll get going now. Mind you, take care of yourself!" she said, waggling her finger at Hermione. "Oh, and by the way, we think the names you've chosen are delightful, if a little unusual. Well, we'll be leaving now. Bye!" She Disapparated out with a pop.

"Don't worry, dear, she's just excited cause it's her first grandchild. She'll calm down in a few months time," Arthur said to her lightly, pulling on his cloak.

Ron raised an eyebrow at his father. "Really?"

"Well, no." Arthur laughed. "But I can always live in hope, can't I? I'll see you both soon, I expect! Oh, and congratulations again!" he said, before disappearing as well.

Ron flumped down on the sofa. "Urgh!" he groaned. "That was the most exhausting dinner of my life! Tell me," he asked wearily, "was there actually a period of longer than three seconds where no-one was talking during that meal?"

"Ron," Hermione said, with a rather confused look on her face, "what did your mother mean when she said she loved the names we'd chosen?"

Ron turned scarlet, and Hermione could see that he was desperately trying to avoid the question. "Well, whilst you were doing the dishes, she sort of, erm, asked me if we had thought of any names…and… well, I know we haven't really discussed it, but I told her a few of the names that I like…"

"Such as?" Hermione said, slightly worried by Ron's reluctance to share. Surely they weren't that awful?

"Well, for a boy- and this is just a suggestion- but I thought… Camithello, and for a girl, Agnes-Jeanette."

Hermione tried to hold back her laughter. "You were kidding, though, right?" she said, tears of suppressed mirth rolling down her cheeks. "You can't seriously want to call our child that?" One look at Ron's face suggested that he was, indeed, serious about the names.

"You don't like them?" he said, sounding crushed. "I know they're a little… unusual, but what's wrong with that?"

"It's not the fact that they're unusual, it's the fact that they're totally hideous names! Can't we just name our child a normal person name, like Matthew, or Catherine?"

Ron glowered. "But that's so boring! You don't know what it's like to have a boring name!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?"

"Well, whenever we meet people, and we tell them that we're Ron and Hermione, they always go, "Oh, Hermione! What an unusual name! What does it mean? How do you spell it?" People remember you for your name. I mean," he spat, "what is there to say about Ron? "Ooh, you have one syllable! How exciting!""

"So let me get this straight," Hermione said slowly. "You feel that people don't remember you cause you have a boring name, so to save our child from the same fate, you want to call them… Camithello?"

Ron nodded mutely.

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "You do realise that if we call our baby that they will get absolutely slaughtered at school? You are fating our child to eighteen years of constant torment before they are old enough to legally change their name by deed poll! Do you want that?"

"No. I guess you're right," Ron mumbled bitterly.

Hermione patted him on the back. "I know it's hard, Ron, " she said sympathetically, "but you really should have learnt this by now. I'm always right. Always."


	8. Cradles and Conmen

Chapter 8- Cradles and Conmen

Hermione lay in the hospital bed. She was alone in the room. What was taking so long? Why hadn't the healers come back yet? Where was Ron? This was possibly the most important moment in their lives together and he wasn't there! The labour had gone so quickly that there hadn't been time to notify him, and now the baby was born and he wasn't there and the healers had taken her baby away and…

The door opened and two healers walked in, their heads bowed. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Mrs Weasley, but your baby was born with serious brain damage," the first healer said slowly. " I'm afraid he died during the labour. I'm so sorry…"

Hermione sat bolt upright, screaming hysterically. Next to her she felt Ron flying out of bed.

"Who's there? Nobody move! I'm armed!" he yelled, brandishing his wand violently. When no-one replied he lit his wand and gazed around, confused.

"Hermione? Was that you?" he muttered bewilderedly. "What's wrong?"

Hermione tried to breathe through her tears, but the only sound that emerged was a strange gulping noise. It was just a dream, she tried to remind herself. Just a bad dream…

"Are you all right?" Ron said, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Did you have a nightmare or something?"

Hermione nodded. "I was having the baby and you weren't there and then the healers all left and then they came back in and they said the baby was dead!" she sobbed.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Ron said calmingly, handing her some tissues. "It was just a dream. It's not real."

"But it seemed so real," Hermione whispered. "It was so real…what if it actually happens?"

Ron hugged her gently, stroking her hair. "It won't happen," he said firmly. "I won't let it happen. No matter what, I'll be there all the way. I don't care if it means I get fired from work, I won't leave you alone when you're having our baby. I'll stay with you the whole time." He kissed her on the cheek. "And I'm sure the baby will be fine. It's very, very rare for a baby to die during labour, and you know that the healers at St Mungo's are some of the best in the world. If anyone would know what to do in a crisis it's them. And even if something did go wrong, God forbid, I'd still be there with you. You won't have to do this alone." He loosened his hug and looked at her face. "Now try to get some sleep, alright, sweetheart? Try not to think about it. Just go back to sleep." He kissed her once more, extinguished the light and lay back down beside her, but it was a long time before either of them fell asleep.

The next few months passed in a fairly normal fashion, albeit with slightly more morning sickness, hearty congratulations and garlicky concoctions than Ron was used to. They had paid a rare visit to Hermione's parents, and Ron had passed a delightful afternoon looking bewilderedly at Muggle items and making small talk with Mr and Mrs Granger, who he was pretty certain thought that he was more than slightly insane. They had, however, been delighted about the baby, although they were far calmer in their behaviour than his parents had been. All in all everything had been surprisingly peaceful, though Ron knew in his heart that this couldn't last for much longer.

It was a warm Sunday morning when Hermione marched into the kitchen and announced that they needed to talk.

Ron lowered the Daily Prophet. "What about?" he asked placidly.

"The flat," Hermione said firmly. "It's too small, Ron. There's nowhere for everything we need for the baby. We barely have enough room as it is, without adding all of this other stuff as well. Where are we going to put the changing table? The pram? The cot?"

Ron gulped. "I'm sure it'll be fine. We'll think of something…"

"We're going to have to, aren't we?" Hermione yelled irately. "At this rate our baby's going to end up sleeping in a drawer!"

Ron laid the paper down on the table and swung round to face Hermione. "Well," he said plainly, " from what I can see we have two options. The first is that we move out of the flat and into a larger one."

"We can't do that!" Hermione squealed. "There's no way we can afford it, and then of course we'd have to move all of the stuff which would be far too much hassle, plus I really love this flat and-"

"Okay, calm down, dear!" Ron said hastily. "Well, if you don't want to move then there's always the spare room…"

"But what if we want to have people over to spend the night?"

"Hermione, in the entire time that I have lived here with you we have never had anyone over to stay the night. Never," Ron said plainly. "And besides, perhaps it hasn't occurred to you, but once we have this baby no-one in their right mind is going to want to stay here overnight! This child is probably going to spend most of it's time bawling it's head off! Heck, after a few months we're probably not going to want to spend the night here!"

Hermione looked rather shocked. "Are they really that awful?" she said timidly.

"Hell yes!" Ron exclaimed. "They cry constantly, they need changing every three seconds, they puke on all of your best outfits- you'll love it!" He looked at her. "Didn't you know this already?"

Hermione bit her lip contemplatively. "Not really," she said slowly. She had a thoughtful look in her eyes that Ron had come to equate with only very bad things such as cleaning and shopping.

"So we'll use the spare room, then?" he said, rapidly changing the subject.

"Mmm… yeah, that's fine, dear," she said vaguely, as she floated out of the room. "We'll go shopping next weekend for baby stuff… and we'll have to clean out all the junk in there. I'm just going to go make a few calls…"

Ron stood in the middle of Hartes and Rowses' Childcare Goods store, gazing helplessly around him. Hermione had dashed off across the store towards the prams almost fifteen minutes ago, leaving him to search for a crib. The selection, however, had rather overwhelmed him, and he was no closer to finding a suitable cot than he had been when he had entered the store.

"May I help you, sir?" a kindly voice said from behind him. Ron spun round. A short, plump old lady with silvery grey hair and little round spectacles was gazing intently at him.

"Yes, please!" Ron said thankfully. "I'm looking for a cot and I don't really know where to start… do you have any suggestions?"

"Well, there's this one here," the woman said, patting a large white plastic crib decorated with pictures of stars and moons. "It's one of the more popular versions. It's got an Anti-Climbing Charm on the bars, and it has a built in alert to let you know if your child needs you. However," she leaned in candidly, "I find that it's not particularly comfortable for the little tykes and also, if you don't mind me saying, it does look a shade tacky- it's one of the cheaper ones we stock. You look like the sort of person who'd be after something a little classier.

"Now, this one here," she said, tapping a gorgeous wooden cot, which was slowly rocking back and forth, "is much more like what you're after. It's the SleepMeister 650. Not only does it have all of the features of the Goodnight 3000," she pointed back over at the white cot, "but it also has several other very attractive qualities. This strip here is particularly special- the paint is enchanted so it'll help you to figure out what your baby wants. For example, if they're damp it'll glow blue, if they have trapped gas it'll glow green, and so on. It also has a Rockabye Charm on it, so it'll automatically rock your baby to sleep. Trust me," she said, smiling sweetly at Ron, "this is the one you're after. Will you be having it?"

Ron was completely lost, but he thought it was a good idea simply to agree with the saleslady- she would know best, after all! He handed over his money in a daze, collected his receipt and walked towards the door of the shop, where Hermione was standing impatiently.

"Well, what did you get?" she prompted.

"Oh, a SleepMeister 650, I think…"

Hermione looked at him, outraged. "What? Why did you get that?"

"The saleslady said that it was what I was after." Ron said, looking confused. "What's wrong with that?"

Hermione's eyes bugged. "What's wrong with that?" she asked sarcastically. "Oh, nothing's wrong with that. It's only the biggest rip-off ever, but if you're fine with that, Ron, then I am as well!"

"Rip-off? What do you mean? I mean, sure, it was quite a bit more expensive than the other one she showed me, but it had all these really useful-"

"Special features?" Hermione snorted. "Please! Any idiot could put a Rockabye Charm on a cot. And I saw the mixture for the "special paint" in a baby magazine last week!"

"What? That saleslady conned me! We're returning that cot!" Ron marched up to the front desk and began gesturing wildly at one of the assistants, who walked over, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, sir?" she said, flicking her badly dyed blonde hair off of her face.

"I would like to return a cot that I just ordered," Ron said, attempting to remain calm. "I have the receipt right here." He placed it on the desk.

"I'm afraid we have a "No Returns" policy on all large furniture items, sir. It's standard procedure."

"No returns?" Ron said, his voice getting progressively louder. "Did you not hear me? I just ordered it! It's not like it's been used or anything!"

"I'm afraid that we can't accept it," the assistant said calmly, looking at her nails. "As I said, it's store policy."

"Store policy? STORE POLICY?" Ron yelled. "So I'm guessing that it's also store policy to CON innocent people into buying REDICULOUSLY EXPENSIVE COTS just because they aren't well informed on the subject? Is that store policy too?"

The assistant raised her heavily plucked eyebrows at him. "Look, sir, I don't make the rules. I can't take it back. As I said, it's procedure."

Ron looked as though he was about to explode. Hermione jumped in quickly. "Well, I can't say I care too much for your "procedure"," she said, glaring icily at the assistant. "so if you don't mind, I think that we'll be taking our business elsewhere." She grabbed Ron's arm and marched him out of the shop, slamming the door behind her.

"I can't believe it!" she fumed. " And it doesn't take much to figure out why they don't do returns! Conning people out of their money like that! The cheek! Well, we'll just have to go somewhere else for the rest of our stuff!"

"There's just one problem," Ron said, with a scowl on his face.

"What?"

"That's the only magical baby goods store in Britain."


	9. Sorting the Spare Room

Chapter 9- Sorting the Spare Room

Ron stood beside the spare room door, bracing himself for what was to come. The things that they had eventually ordered from Hartes and Rowses' (once they had swallowed their pride and gone back in) were supposed to be arriving the next day, and they had nowhere to put them. He had eventually discovered that Hermione's "spring-cleaning" several months ago had basically consisted of throwing everything in the spare room and slamming the door shut before it could all fall out, and so he was naturally rather concerned for his safety. He took a deep breath, flung the door open and dashed for cover.

Luckily nothing fell out of the room, but only because it was too well wedged in. Ron let out a dismayed groan. There was junk everywhere! He would never, ever finish cleaning this room! It would take him the rest of his life!

No! he scolded himself. This needs doing, and you are going to do it! And what's more, you are going to get it done before Hermione comes home this evening! Hermione had disappeared, due to a rather convenient "work emergency", which Ron found highly suspicious, but he hadn't argued. He heaved a great sigh. Here goes nothing…

Hermione arrived home at 6 o'clock to find her husband sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by what appeared to be the aftermath of some terrible catastrophe. Half-filled boxes of books littered the carpet and there were at least a dozen black bags crammed full of assorted odds and ends, which appeared to be on the verge of exploding. Ron looked up and smiled smugly at his wife.

"Ha! I told you I could do it!" he said, wiping a smudge of dust off of the end of his nose.

"Do what? Destroy our home?" Hermione said, horror-stricken. "Will you look at this mess!"

"What? This?" Ron said, gesturing at the debris scattered around the room. "Nah, don't worry, all I've gotta do is carry this stuff out to the dumpsters out back and we're done! May I just say, by the way," he said, leaning in towards her, "that we really do own a tremendous amount of junk? It's actually quite amazing!"

"This can't all be going out!" Hermione said, dismayed. "What about those books over there? I love those books!"

"Hermione," Ron said impatiently, "I found these books buried right at the back of the room, underneath a box of Christmas cards from five years ago! You probably haven't seen them since the day you bought them!"

"But still…" Hermione whined, " do we have to throw them out? Can't we find somewhere for them?"

"No! I am not backing down on this! We are not keeping any more junk!" Ron said, giving her a very firm look.

"Fine!" Hermione pouted. "We'll get rid of them! Come on, then, let's take this trash out the back." She picked up the box of books that was lying nearest her and began to walk towards the door.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Ron said hastily. "What d'you think you're doing, carrying that? It's far too heavy!"

"Oh, stop fussing, Ron! I can manage it!"

"Hermione, you're pregnant! You shouldn't be carrying huge boxes of books around! You should be resting," Ron said calmly.

"Ron, this box contains four paperbacks! My handbag weighs more than that!" Hermione yelled irately.

"Calm down, sweetheart," Ron said, in a voice which he believed to be soothing but which Hermione simply found extremely patronising. "Why don't I take this out to the rubbish, and you go make us a cup of tea, okay dear?"

"No that is NOT okay!" Hermione shrieked indignantly. "Why don't I just bugger off, seeing as I'm obviously of no use whatsoever?" And with that she flung the box of books down on the ground and Disapparated with a violent crack.


	10. Harry Explains It All

Chapter 10

Harry opened his front door that evening to find Hermione sitting on his sofa with her arms folded and a cup of tea lying on the table in front of her.

"Hey Hermione!" he said curiously. "What are you doing here? I thought Ginny was out at some work thing tonight…?"

"Yeah, she is," Hermione said moodily, "so I just let myself in and made some tea. That's not a problem, is it?" she added tentatively.

"No, that's fine!" Harry said breezily. "Is there any tea left in the pot?"

Hermione handed him a mug from the side table. "Sorry there's no sugar in it, but I made it for Ginny- I thought she must have just nipped out or something."

Harry took the mug and sat down opposite Hermione. "So what's up? I'm guessing that Ron's done something stupid again?" He smiled wryly.

"Urgh! He is such an idiot!" Hermione seethed. "He was treating me as though I was some helpless little child who couldn't do anything for myself! And it's not the first time either! He keeps telling me to "sit down, dear", "take a break", "don't wear yourself out"! Honestly," she sighed, " you'd think that I was recovering from a heart attack instead of just being pregnant!"

Harry took a deep breath. "You do realise that he's probably only doing this for your own good?"

"_My own good_? How is treating me like an invalid for my own good?"

"Well, let's face it Hermione, this wouldn't be the first time you've tried to take on too much," Harry said carefully, aware that anything he said could cause Hermione to explode into a fiery ball of rage. "Like in sixth year, when you tried to go without sleep for two days straight just so you could pack in as much revision as possible for the Transfiguration exam? And what happened then?"

"Oh, it wasn't that serious!" Hermione said irritably. "Everyone totally overreacted about that!"

"Hermione, you collapsed halfway through the test! You spent the next three days in the hospital wing recovering from the exhaustion! No offence, 'Mione, but you do have a tendency to wear yourself out. Ron's just worried you're going to do the same just now and end up damaging yourself and the baby."

"But still…" Hermione protested. "Why does he have to be so patronising over it?"

"He only does it because he cares." Harry said slowly. "He just wants what's best for you, even if it means you get really annoyed with him. It's just who he is, you know- act first, think later. Like, remember that time at the end of seventh year, when we were in the Hog's Head and that massive guy was hassling you?"

"How could I forget?" Hermione said, shaking her head. "That was a pretty impressive punch that Ron threw at him."

"Yeah," Harry said reminiscently. "You know, it took Madam Pomfrey six hours to fix all of the damage that guy did in return?"

"I know!" Hermione sighed. "He doesn't really think, does he?"

Harry shrugged. "For him it was a pretty simple decision. 'Hermione isn't happy, therefore I will remove the cause of unhappiness.' It's pretty typical male logic- I wouldn't try to understand it if I were you," he said with a smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes before looking at her watch. "I guess I should go home now. It's pretty late," she said, standing up.

"Sure- I'll see you soon, okay? And try not to be too hard on him, Hermione… He may be a tactless idiot, but he loves you."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "And I love him too. Guess that makes me just as big an idiot as him!" she said, grinning, before she Disapparated.

Harry picked up the mugs and walked towards the kitchen. That kid's going to have a very interesting life, he thought with a smile.


	11. Breakfast and Babysitting

Chapter 11- Breakfast and Babysitting

Ron woke up bright and early, for a change, on the 18th of July, leaving Hermione snuggled up and fast asleep. He slipped through to the kitchen, placed the kettle full of water on the stovetop and went to find some bacon. Three years, he thought happily to himself as he placed the bacon in the frying pan and some bread in the toaster. Three years to the day since they had stood in front of all of their friends and family and pledged to love one another for the rest of their lives…

The kettle let out a shrill whistle. Cursing, Ron flung himself across the room, pulled out his wand and whispered "Silencio!". The kettle heeded his warning and fell silent.

"Ron?" a sleepy voice said from the direction of the bedroom. "Is that you? What are you doing?"

Ron hastily poured the water into two mugs, spooned in some instant coffee granules, dished up the bacon and toast and returned to the bedroom, plates balanced precariously on his arms.

"Happy Anniversary!" he yelled, kicking open the door. Hermione was sitting upright in bed with a wide smile on her face.

"Oh! Thank you, sweetie!" she said, giving him a deep kiss.

"Don't mention it," Ron said, handing her a plate and a mug. Hermione took a sip of her coffee, her plate balanced on her rapidly increasing bump. They were taking a trip to Diagon Alley that day, primarily to buy maternity robes. Ron scowled with displeasure- of all the types of shopping, robe shopping was by far his least favourite.

"Don't scowl, sweetheart, you'll get wrinkles!" Hermione said jovially, tapping him on the nose.

"If that's the case, then I'm surprised you aren't covered in them, given the amount of scowling you do at me!" Ron laughed. "By the way, I have a present for you. It's not much," he said, reaching into the bedside cabinet drawer and pulling out a shiny, silver box, "but it's just something, you know, for the day…"

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "They're gorgeous!" She removed the little gold earrings from their box and put them in. "What do you think?"

"Lovely, as ever," Ron said with a smile, "and the earrings are pretty nice too!".

Hermione blushed, avoiding his eye. "Oh God!" she exclaimed, looking at the clock. "It's almost 10! Why did you let me sleep in so late? You knew we were supposed to be going out!"  
"Well… you looked so peaceful- I didn't want to disturb you…" Ron said innocently.

"Peaceful? Yeah, right!" Hermione snorted. "You just didn't want to go shopping! Don't think I don't know your little tricks, Mr Weasley," she said, waggling her finger cheekily. "We're going shopping- unless you want me to wander around in robes that are far too short and tight…?"

"Well…" Ron said, a mischievous grin on his face. "That's not a sight I would mind seeing-"

"Move! Now!" Hermione said, bouncing out of bed. "And wear something smart- we have dinner reservations at Café de l'Amour for this evening, and I'm not having you showing up looking like something the cat's dragged in!"

Ron collapsed onto a bench, flinging Hermione's three million bags down beside him. She was really taking advantage of the whole "pregnant women shouldn't carry heavy objects" idea, he thought angrily. They must have visited every shop in Diagon Alley at least twice. He was absolutely wiped out, but Hermione was still full of beans. She had disappeared into Flourish and Blotts at least twenty minutes ago- what was she doing, trying to read the whole store?

At that moment Hermione and a pretty blonde witch appeared at the shop doorway, giggling cheerfully. Ron vaguely recognised this woman- had they been at school together?

"Ron!" Hermione shouted. "Come over here for a minute!"

Ron stood up wearily and waddled towards his wife- his feet were killing him. "What's up, sweetheart?" he said in a forced cheery voice. "Who's your friend?"

"Ron!" Hermione said, abashed. "This is Tiffany!"

"Tiffany…?" Ron said, confused. He was sure he knew the name- was she a friend of Ginny's or something?

"She works in the office next to yours!" Hermione muttered angrily through gritted teeth. "Sorry about him," she said, smiling sweetly at Tiffany, "he's just a bit tired- doesn't know what he's saying! Anyway," she continued, "we'll be glad to take little Joey for a few hours. I'm sure we'll have so much fun!"

"That's great!" Tiffany said in an equally sickly sweet voice. "I'll drop him off at 5 then. 36 Mullainey Gardens, right?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll see you then!" she said with a wave, before grabbing Ron's arm and dragging him across the road.

"What was that all about?" Ron said, still totally confused.

"We're babysitting next weekend," Hermione said quickly. "Honestly, Ron, do you have no manners at all? Couldn't you have just nodded along instead of asking such a stupid qu-"

"Babysitting?" Ron said. "As in watching her baby? Why?"

"Well, I think it would be nice to get some practice," Hermione said plainly. "After all, we hardly know anything about babies, so we should probably have an attempt before being set loose on a child of our own."

"I know lots about caring for kids! Do I really _have_ to be there?" he whined.

"Yes, Ron. Think of this as… as an anniversary gift!" Hermione said chirpily.

"Fine." Ron sulked. "But I want those earrings back."


	12. Safety Spells and Sitting For Satan

Chapter 12- Safety Spells and Sitting For Satan

Ron arrived home from work that evening in a very bad humour and with an incredibly loud rumble in his stomach. He stormed into the kitchen angrily, flopped down into his chair and stewed over the nightmare that had been his day. He had just discovered that Hillary, the stupid bimbo who worked across the hall from him, was getting a promotion even though he had worked at least twice as hard as her, everyone kept nagging him about some stupid report (as if he didn't get enough of that at home!), and to top it all off he had picked up Hermione's lunch that morning by accident and there was no way in hell that he was going to eat her weird garlic-filled sandwiches!

His stomach gave another angry growl. Ron sighed, stood up, and removed a loaf of crusty white bread from the cupboard above the sink. He walked over and tried to open the cutlery drawer, but it appeared to be stuck. He gave several harder tugs, but the drawer remained steadfastly closed. Ron pulled out his wand and began yelling angry curses at the drawer, punctuated by a few angry thwacks. He was just about to give up when Hermione came through, wearing a scowl.

"What on earth are you doing?" she cried in alarm.

"This stupid-" thump "-drawer-" thump "-won't-" thump "-bloody-" thump "-OPEN!"

"Will you please calm down, Ron?" Hermione said, her eyebrows raised. "Don't be such a drama queen! I just put a Stay-Shut Spell on it- we're babysitting tonight and I didn't want Joey getting into the knives. All you have to do to get it open is to say the counter charm."

"Hermione, we are looking after a ten month old baby!" Ron yelled irritably. " What is the likelihood that this child, who, may I remind you, can't even walk yet, is going to stand up, reach the top drawer, pull it open and remove a knife?"

"You can't be too cautious!" Hermione said, opening the drawer and handing him a knife. "After all-"

She was interrupted by a loud thumping sound coming from the living room. They ran through to find their owl, Morwen, lying on the outside windowsill, clutching a letter and looking dazed.

"Oh no!" Hermione cried, running over. "I put a Stay Shut Spell on the window too." She muttered the counter charm before looking over at Ron. "You know-"

"-just in case!" Ron said mockingly. "Hermione, don't you think you're going a little over the top?"

"You won't be saying that when we have to take a trip to St Mungo's because our baby's fallen out of the window!" Hermione said accusingly. At that moment, the doorbell rang. "That'll be Tiffany!" Hermione said. She began to head towards the door before turning back to look at Ron. "Just try not to say anything stupid this time!"

When Ginny Apparated into Ron and Hermione's living room several hours after Tiffany's departure she could see that she had picked a bad moment to show up for a chat. Ron was splayed out on the couch, fast asleep, surrounded by a vast array of soft toys. The room looked as though it had been hit by a tornado. Several chairs were lying forlornly on the floor, and a light dusting of baby powder coated most of the surfaces in the room, including her brother. Ginny turned to see Hermione tiptoeing out of the spare bedroom.

"He's asleep!" she whispered at Ron, who gave a grunt in reply. "Oh hi, Ginny!" she added, noticing her sister-in-law standing next to the door. "Sorry about the mess- we've been babysitting!"

Ron woke up with a start. "Where am I?" he said confusedly. "Oh, hey Gin!" he said, waving at his sister before adding, "By the way, are you interested in buying a baby? Brand new, still in the womb, and we'll even throw in a cot free!"

"Was it really that bad?" Ginny said, although she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

"That child is the Devil!" Ron said emphatically. "It is actually Satan! And it is really, really fast! I've never seen anything move so quickly on four legs!"

"Except Crookshanks," Hermione cut in. "That little brat pulled his tail, and now I can't find him anywhere!"

"Yeah, you're really going to have fun when ours comes!" Ron joked. "All day with a noisy, screaming little poopmeister! For once, I'm going to be glad I'm at work!"

"Yeah," Hermione said, "but it's only for three months…"

"…and the rest!" Ron said. Both girls shot him a confused look. "Well, you'll be giving up work, won't you?"

"Say again?" Hermione said, looking bewildered.

"Well, someone has to look after the baby all day!"

"I thought we were just going to get a nanny, or a child minder or something."

"No way," Ron said firmly. "I'm not having a stranger raising my child. The parents should look after the children."

"Well, then it should be you!" Hermione shot back. "After all, I earn twice as much as you, plus I really love my job!"

"But raising kids is woman's work!" Ron argued. "I'm the man. I should be earning the money. You're the woman! It's your job to stay home and look after the baby."

Ginny winced. She could feel Hermione tensing up with rage.

"Woman's work?" she said in a dangerously calm voice.

"Guys, how about I look after the-" Ginny stuttered, trying to calm down the situation.

"WOMAN'S WORK?"" Hermione shrieked again.

"It's really no problem. I mean, I work from ho-"

"YOU BLOODY MALE CHAUVANISTIC PIG!" Hermione yelled. Ginny decided it was time to leave.

"I'll see you later, ok, bye!" she muttered, before retreating out of the front door. She could hear the baby screeching in the spare room, mingled with Hermione's furious yelling. She had a funny feeling that Ron would be doing a lot more sleeping on the couch…


	13. Oops

Okay...I'm having some issues with uploading chapters. I accidentally uploaded Ch11 twice, as several people pointed out to me (thanks, by the way), and then when I tried to replace it, I ended up with an extra Ch11, as well as the right Chapter 12. I then tried to delete it and it wouldn't go. So now this is just a little note, which I'm pretty sure is illegal, but I'd delete it if I could (and indeed, if I manage to at a later date, this'll be gone), so...


	14. Bad News In The Pub

Chapter 13-Bad News at the Bar

Hermione sat precariously on a stool, tapping the bar with her fingernails. Ron had arranged to meet her at The Cat in the Cauldron after work, but she had got out earlier than expected, and she was starting to get bored-

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I couldn't help noticing you from across the room… may I buy you a drink?"

Hermione turned round in shock to see Ron standing there, grinning. "Why thank you," she said sweetly, deciding to play along. "I'll have a pumpkin juice, please."

Ron gestured at the bartender. "One Firewhisky, and a pumpkin juice for the lady." He turned back, still smiling. "So what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" he said, in a voice which he obviously believed to be suave.

"Pondering," Hermione replied. "People keep saying the strangest things. I ran into Mike today-"

"As in Ginny's boss?"

"Yeah. We chatted for a few minutes, and then, just as I was leaving, he said something about seeing me next week, but when I asked him what he meant, he said he wasn't allowed to say…"

"Oh!" Ron said, with a look of understanding, "He'll be talking about the baby shower that Lavender's holding for you-"

"WHAT?"

"-the _surprise_ baby shower that Lavender's holding for you- I wasn't supposed to say that, was I?" Ron said, shaking his head miserably. "Ginny's going to kill me."

"_Ginny_?"

"Yeah- she was the one who arranged this. She mentioned it to Mike when she went to drop off an article-" Ginny worked for _Spark_ magazine, a woman's weekly specialising in celebrity gossip and beauty advice. " -and he said that Lavender would be a great host, since she loves planning parties and she doesn't have much to do all day, having given up work."

Hermione gave a snort. Lavender had married Mike several years ago, much to her disgust. It was fairly obvious what the attraction was- Mike was pushing 60, with a foul temper, a hideous face and a fortune in the bank.

"I know," Ron sighed, reading her mind. "But Ginny didn't really want to say no, because he's her boss and everything, so she decided it should be a surprise, because there was no way you'd go if you knew Lavender was holding it."

"Well, she's right about that!" Hermione spat. "If you think that I'm going to voluntarily spend an evening with that _golddigger_ and her snooty friends looking down their noses at me just because I work for a living and don't wear designer robes, then you have another think coming! Now, if you'll excuse me," she said, getting off of the stool with some difficulty (she was almost seven months pregnant, so her bump was fairly ample), "I'm going to go kill Ginny."

"Come on, Hermione," Ron said coaxingly, grabbing her arm, "what'll that really achieve?"

"Well, firstly, it'll make me feel a _lot_ better," Hermione said, glowering, "and secondly, if I kill Ginny, they'll put me in Azkaban and I won't have to go to this stupid shower!"

"But you're the guest of honour!" Ron said, a slight note of pleading in his voice. "If you don't go, there'll be no baby to shower! And it won't just be Lavender's friends," he continued, pulling her back onto her stool. "Ginny's invited all of your friends as well. You have to go- everyone's put in so much effort to this party. You don't want to ruin it by acting like a baby and sulking, do you?" he said, with a hint of a smile.

"I guess I _have_ to," Hermione sighed. "But I'm not going to enjoy it," she added firmly.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down," Ron said, giving her a hug. "And there's no need to tell Ginny that you know," he added hastily. "She doesn't trust me to keep a secret as it is! Just play along, all right?" he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "And remember- _act_ _surprised_."


	15. The Worst Babyshower Ever

Chapter 14 - The Worst Babyshower Ever

Hermione slammed the living room door shut behind her, causing Ron to jump and knock over the pile of cards that he had just dealt - he and Harry were playing Exploding Poker whilst waiting for Ginny and Hermione to return from her baby shower. The two boys looked at the furious figure standing at the doorway, unwilling to question her as to the source of her anger. Their silence, however, was broken by Ginny, who came in carrying a pale blue blanket with a large red stain in one of it's corners. It looked suspiciously like blood, and Ron suddenly had horrible images of the massacre that may have been his wife's baby shower.

"You forgot your bla-" Ginny began, but she was cut off mid-sentence.

"Why did you let me go to that _shower_?" Hermione spat, glaring angrily at Ginny, who muttered something under her breath.

"You didn't realise? You DIDN'T REALISE?" Hermione shrieked. Ron could see Harry wincing out of the corner of his eye - Hermione's voice had reached supersonic pitch.

"It could have been worse…" Ginny mumbled.

Hermione let out an infuriated screech, turned on her heel and marched into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Was it really _that_ awful?" Harry said, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, yes, definitely!" Ginny said, nodding emphatically. "I've had better nightmares! But I do think she was a tad over-dramatic…oh well, I'm sure she'll calm down soon. It's just the hormones - that's my bet," she added thoughtfully.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is that on the blanket?" Ron said slowly, slightly concerned as to what the answer could be - surely Hermione hadn't _actually_ murdered anyone?

"Red wine," Ginny replied shortly.

Harry and Ron both winced. It was a well-known fact that, even in the magical world, nothing gets red wine out.

"I know." Ginny nodded. "That's what started it all. It was going okay at first. I mean, it was a little awkward, but no-one was killing one another, so that was a bonus. I told her that we had to stop past Mike and Lavender's so I could ask him about an article. I really don't think she knew anything about it!"

Ron tried to hold back a smile. Maybe Hermione wasn't such a bad actor as he had always thought…

"So, anyway, gifts were exchanged, small talk was made, and then it all began. Flora Kales - you know, the girl who trained at St Mungo's with Hermione?"

Ron racked his memory. "Short, blonde, kind of clumsy?" he ventured.

"Yeah. Well, she dropped a glass of wine - it went all over Lavender's cream carpet and this blanket. Of course, Lavender went schizo - she really started laying into this poor girl, she was completely furious! Not surprisingly, most of the guests were a tad alarmed, and Constance-"

Ron let out a groan - it would be Constance, wouldn't it? That girl never knew when to keep her nose out of things…

"-started yelling back at Lavender. They were screaming at one another, and then Lavender called her a vulgar little low-life."

Harry let out a whistle. Ron nodded in agreement.

"…so Constance flung a slice of cake down Lavender's shirt, and before we knew it, the whole thing had erupted into a fully-blown food fight. Hermione was _not_ impressed."

"I'll say," a voice from the doorway said.

They turned around to see Hermione standing there, a weak smile on her face. Ron ran over.

"You all right now?" he said, hugging her tightly.

"I'll be fine." Hermione sighed. "So most of Lavender's friends'll never speak to me again - so what? I didn't like them anyway. Plus," she added, with a smile, "I got a whole bunch of really expensive baby things and I'll never have to see most of the people who gave me them again! I'm beginning to see the benefits of this whole 'being a social reject' thing."

"So you aren't too upset?" Ginny cut in.

"No."

"So am I forgiven?"

"I guess - just do me a favour, okay?"

"Anything," Ginny said gratefully.

"_Never_ hold me a party again." Hermione smiled.

"It's a deal."


	16. Out Past Curfew

Chapter 15- Out Past Curfew

Hermione looked over at the clock longingly, willing it to move faster. She was experiencing one of the most boring afternoons of her life. She had been bickering with Ron for the past fortnight about when she should take her maternity leave - it was two weeks until the baby was due, and she saw no reason why she should stop working now, or why she should take any maternity leave whatsoever before the baby was born. In her opinion, work was the best place for her- what better place to spend one's time whilst pregnant than in a hospital? Ron, however, had been insistent, and she had eventually given in - she was trying to avoid having any major arguments with him prior to the birth.

She looked back over at the clock in dismay. From what she could see, time wasn't moving at all. She had to do something - the boredom was driving her to distraction! Surely going into work for a few hours wouldn't hurt, would it? Ron need never know - she could be back long before he came home from work…

She stood up from the table and went to get her cloak. This really was the best thing for her, she reasoned. What good was she doing, hanging around the house, when she could be helping out in the department? They were sure to be swamped, after all. Yes, she decided, picking up her bag, it would do her a world of good to get out for a bit. And Ron need never find out…

Hermione opened the door that evening to find Ron sitting on the sofa, his arms folded across his chest. As soon as he saw her, he stood up, hands on his hips.

"What time do you call this?" he hissed, infuriated. "Where on _earth_ have you been?"

Hermione gulped. "I was round at Ginny's…" she murmured. Surely she wasn't that late, was she? She glanced at her watch. It was only 4:30- Ron must have came home from work early-

"Don't _lie_ to me, young lady! You were no more at Ginny's than flying air! I checked myself!"

Hermione bit her lip, thinking fast. "Well, after that I went into town, to look for some… new curtains!"

"You were _working_, weren't you?" Ron spat, pointing an accusing finger at her and narrowing his eyes.

"So what if I was?" Hermione said defiantly. "I don't have to explain myself to you - you aren't the boss of me!"

"I _explicitly_ told you not to go to work!" Ron said sternly. "I told you to stay home, get some rest, not to get too stressed out, and you blatantly disobey me! You didn't even leave a note! I was worried sick! Anything could have happened to you and I wouldn't have been able to… why are you laughing?"

Hermione tried to suppress her giggles, creating an array of unusual snorting noises. "It's just…" she spluttered, "you sounded so much like my father did once when I came home late from a party!"

"I did?" Ron said, sounding aghast.

Hermione chuckled. "Right down to the last 'young lady'!"

Ron looked horrified. "Did I actually say 'young lady'?"

Hermione nodded, tears of laughter running down her cheeks.

Ron grimaced. "This fatherhood thing has really gone to my head, hasn't it?" he sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't be!" Hermione laughed. "It was actually pretty amusing!"

"Laugh at me, will you?" Ron said, in a faux-stern tone, trying to hide the smile on his face.

"Sorry, daddy!" Hermione said in a sing-song voice.

"Oh, I'll give you something to be really sorry for, all right!" Ron said, and with that he swept her off of her feet in one smooth movement and tossed her onto the sofa, before ticking her mercilessly, ignoring her squeals of protest.

"Ha!" he cried. "Revenge is sweet!"

Hermione suddenly froze, looking panic-stricken.

"What's wrong?" Ron said hesitantly, letting her go. Hermione didn't reply. "_What's wrong?_" he persisted, the note of panic in his voice growing.

Hermione sat in silence a few more seconds, before saying, with a smile, "Nothing, really, but it made you stop tickling me!"

"Ohhh, you little-"

"Sorry, sorry! I know I shouldn't have done that, but I couldn't resist!" Hermione laughed.

"Don't freak me out like that!" Ron squeaked, his voice about an octave higher than usual.

"I'm sorry, sweetie!" Hermione cooed, her voice suddenly full of concern. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Ron grinned. "I'm sure I can think of something…"


	17. The Start Of Something Special

Chapter 16- The Start of Something Special

"Ron! _Ron_!" Hermione hissed, poking her sleeping husband in the side.

"Mhhhmmm… I like the strawbry onnnne…" Ron mumbled sleepily, batting her hand away.

"_RON_!" Hermione said, slightly louder. "I think the baby's coming!"

"No it's not!" he mumbled, rolling over. "It's coming _next_ week! Now go back to slee…" He let out a loud snore.

"RON!" she cried, elbowing him in the ribs. He let out a small yelp of pain and opened his eyes.

"_What_?"

"My waters have broken!" she murmured frantically.

"Don't worry, sweetie, we'll get you some new ones…" he muttered, waving her away and rolling over again.

"Ronald Weasley, unless you want this baby to be born in this bed, I suggest you get up _NOW_!"

"I'm up, I'm up!" he hissed, sitting up abruptly. "Are you sure it's really coming?"

"Certain." Hermione replied firmly.

"Well, isn't there anything you can do? You know, some sort of spell or something to keep it in there for a bit longer?" Ron said, enquiringly.

"No, there is not!" Hermione said, darting around the room, shoving items into a bag.

"There must be." Ron replied, insistently. "You're Hermione- you can do anything!"

"Ron, I am going to the hospital now." Hermione said, pulling on her cloak over her nightie. "I suggest that you should do the same, if you are still keen to be the father of this child!"

"Okay, okay, hang on!" Ron said, grabbing his cloak. "I'm coming…"

Ron gazed down the long, purple walled corridor in front of him, his stomach squirming about as though he had just swallowed a dose of Polyjuice Potion. The Maternity Department at St Mungo's was located a few minutes walk away from the main building, in a disused apartment block. The insides of it were decorated in soothing pastel tones, but it still had that very distinct "hospitally" feel that gave Ron the shivers.

He wheeled Hermione down the corridor towards Room 44. They had insisted on her using a wheelchair, despite her protests that she could easily walk. Ron hadn't really thought about the actual birth much- he knew that it would happen at sometime, but he hadn't put a lot of thought into what the actual process really entailed. All he knew was that it supposedly hurt… _a lot_. Hermione didn't seem too worried, though. She was a lot more comfortable about these sort of things than he was. He was glad that he had such a brave wife- it was nice to have someone to reassure him that the cut on his arm wasn't really as bad as it seemed, or to sort out his leg when he broke it playing Quidditch in the park with Harry. She hadn't even winced when she saw the bone sticking out of the side- he would have run a mile if it was her who needed help…

They had reached Room 44. Hermione turned around and smiled at Ron. It wasn't her usual smile though- he could definitely see a hint of trepidation lingering at the back, and he wondered if Hermione wasn't as fearless as he had always believed her to be…

"You ready, sweetheart?" he said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Ron opened the door slowly and looked around the room. Not too bad- it was a biggish room, with a bed near the door, several chairs and a curtained-off area at the other side. He'd seen worse…

Suddenly the curtains flung themselves open to reveal another couple- a smiling, pregnant woman with curly dark hair in a hospital gown and a blonde man with a moustache, who was evidently her husband.

"Hi!" the woman said perkily, giving them a little wave. "I'm Morag and this is my husband Alisdair. Looks like we're gonna be baby mates!"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. Baby mates? _Baby mates_? Here she was, in a hospital, about to have her first child, and she was going to have to give birth in the same room as someone else? More importantly, she was going to have to give birth in the same room as someone who uses the term "baby mates"? That was NOT happeni-

"Ohhhh….OH_HHHH_!" Hermione hollered. Ron looked at her, alarmed.

"Are you okay, love?" he said concerned. "Do want me to get someone?"

"No, it's all right, it was just a contraction…" Hermione gasped. But it had _hurt_…!

"Don't worry, honey, the first ones always throw you off balance!" Morag piped up. "They'll set into a pattern fairly soon though!"

"That's great!" Hermione smiled sarcastically. "Ron, could you go and see if we can get a _private_ room?"

"Sure," he said, eying the other couple suspiciously, as though they might attack her whilst he was gone, "will you be okay here on your own?"

"I'll be fine," she reassured him, before whispering, "Now go! Go _fast_!" Ron shot off down the corridor, leaving her at the doorway.

"So is this your first?" Alisdair smiled.

"Yeah…"

"Oh, this is our sixth!" Morag giggled. "We just _adore_ children."

This was reassuring, Hermione thought to herself. If they had been willing to go through this six times then it couldn't be _that_ dreadful…

"So are you having a Painless Procedure Potion?" Morag simpered, flicking her hair.

"No, no," Hermione replied, "I want to do this all naturally. PPP's can have nasty side effects, and I don't want to take any chances."

"Wow! How brave of you!" Alisdair said, raising his eyebrows, either in admiration or in amusement. Hermione forced herself to smile back. Come _on_, Ron, she thought to herself, how long can it take to ask for a private room?

"So are you planning on continuing to work after you get your little bundle of joy?"

"Yeah- my sister-in-law works from home so she's going to look after the… bundle whilst I'm at work." Hermione replied in amusement. Bundle of joy? Who were these people?

"Hey- we're in Room 19 now!" Ron said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Great!" she grinned at him, before turning back to face her companions. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to go," she said, with a look of fake sorrow across her face.

"Oh no!" Morag exclaimed. "That's too bad! Well, good luck with your baby! Maybe I'll see you around the hospital?"

"Not if I can help it…" Hermione muttered as Ron wheeled her out of the room.

Ron looked around the, mercifully private, Room 19. They had been there for almost three hours and he was starting to get a tad bored, much to his embarrassment- he felt that he should be more excited about the arrival of his first child. He decided that now would be a good time to contact Ginny and Harry, so he excused himself and went out into the hallway. How would he call them? Maybe the maternity department had an Owlery..?

He wandered along the hallway, before coming to a signpost, which directed him along three corridors, up several flights of stairs , and along a hallway towards a set of pink doors, marked "Mail Room". He wandered absent-mindedly through the doors, but what he saw on the other side took his breath away.

Storks. Dozens and dozens of _storks_.

"Hello there! How can I help you?" a voice said cheerfully from beside the window. Ron moved forward to get a closer look at the person addressing him. It was a young man in mint green robes, with a shock of blonde corkscrew curls.

"Yeah…" Ron said hesitantly. "Is this the Mail Room?"

"Yep!" the man replied cheerily, stooping down to tie a roll of parchment onto the leg of an obliging stork. "You needing to send a letter?"

"Uh huh… what's with all the storks?" Ron said, unable to keep his curiosity under control any longer.

"We get that all the time," the man replied, waving the stork off with a flourish of his hand. "When Muggle kids ask their parents where babies come from, some of them say that a stork brings them. It saves a lot of… explaining," the man said with a smirk, before continuing. "Anyway, the staff all thought it would be a really cute idea to have storks deliver the news of a new baby, rather than owls. Adds a nice touch. So you're wanting to send a letter?"

Ron nodded, still smiling inwardly. Muggles! They'd believe anything, wouldn't they?

"Here," the man said, handing him a roll of parchment and a quill. "Just write out your note- use the desk over there- and then give me a call."

"Great!" Ron said, sitting down at the desk. He hastily scribbled-

Hey guys!

Me and 'Mione are at the hospital- she's in labour! We've been here for three hours so far, and we're still not even close to finished, so there's no need to hurry. See you soon,

Ron

P.S- Could you owl Mum and Dad and let them know?

P.P.S- We're in Room 19, not 44, just in case reception sends you the wrong way.

He folded the letter up, scrawled the address on the front and looked for the assistant.

"Hey…you! Blond guy!" Ron called, feeling more than slightly stupid- he really should have asked the guy's name…

"Over here!" the man replied, waving his arm in the air. Ron walked across and handed him the parchment. The man took it, tied it onto the leg of the nearest stork and sent it off, before turning to Ron and saying "It's Rory, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Ron," he replied, turning slightly red. "I should probably get moving- I have people waiting for me downstairs…"

"Sure thing," Rory replied, "and congratulations on your baby, by the way." Ron turned around, slightly surprised. He could have been up here for any reason- how had Rory known that he was going to be a father?

Rory smiled, obviously understanding Ron's surprise. "Let's just say it shows."


	18. and Baby Makes Three

Chapter 17- …and Baby Makes Three

Hermione felt another great twinge of pain growing inside her. She braced herself- she was getting really fed up of these contractions. She had already done eight hours worth of them! Surely she was almost there?

She let out a gasp. Ginny squeezed her hand reassuringly. She and Harry had arrived three hours ago, bearing gifts- a baby name book and a bag full of assorted baby garments. Ron and Harry had disappeared a few minutes ago in search of coffee- Ron was exhausted, having been woken at 2 o clock, and caffeine appeared to be the only solution. Hermione felt a surge of anger- how dare he complain of being tired! All he had to do was sit around and wait!

"Still here?" a voice sneered from the doorway. Hermione looked up- it was Naimh Barnegat, one of the Assistant Healers and possibly the most irritatingly smug people Hermione had ever had the misfortune to come across.

"Well, obviously!" Ginny replied, bristling- she disliked Naimh just as much as Hermione did.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want a PPP?" Naimh continued, smirking. "Once you start delivering, it's too late to change your mind!"

"I'm _fine_, thank you!" Hermione snapped.

"Okay-dokay! Your choice!" Naimh sang, before jumping slightly. "Oh, _hi_, Ron! I didn't see you there!" she said, her voice suddenly turning sickly sweet. "Well, I'm just heading off, now- I'll leave you with your _delightful_ wife! Bye!"

"Oh… bye!" Ron waved, looking somewhat bemused. "What was that all about?" he said, closing the door behind him.

"I hate her!" Hermione spat.

"Calm down, dear," Ron said, pulling up a chair next to her, placing his mug of coffee on the sidetable and taking her hand. "You're not thinking straight at the moment-"

"I don't want that _cow_ delivering our baby!" Hermione continued, before letting out a loud cry of pain.

"Is everything okay?" Harry said, popping his head around the doorway. "I could hear you out here!"

"Could you get one of the Healers please, Harry?" Hermione said, looking slightly nervous. "I think it's time…"

"Okay- everyone out apart from the father!" Healer Gretchen Hopesmith called, pointing firmly at the door. Harry and Ginny both hugged Hermione, wished her luck and left the room, closing the door behind them. Ron felt a very large pang of nerves- apparently he had elephants tap-dancing in his small intestine.

"Mr Weasley, could you hold your wife's hand, please?" one of the Assistant Healers asked. Ron nodded mutely, walked over to Hermione and took her hand. She grasped it very tightly, causing Ron to wince- never mind her, _he_ might well need a PPP by the end of this…

Hermione let out a howl of pain- Ron pulled his hand out of her grip, deciding that it was probably safer if he held her _arm _or something…

"Could you try pushing, please, Hermione?" Gretchen called. Hermione let out another, louder, bellow, and tensed up completely, squashing Ron's hand with her elbow. He decided that it would be better to simply _move away_ and shout encouragement from the sidelines…

"I want the Potion!" Hermione gasped. "I want the Potion!"

"But sweetie," Ron protested, "it's too late now! Don't you want to have a natural birth-"

"Screw the natural birth!" she roared. "I want the POTION!"

"I'm afraid we can't do that now," Healer Hopesmith piped up. "But it's all right, just keep pushing, you're doing great!"

"I HATE you, Ronald Weasley! Why did I _ever_ let you talk me into this?"

"Calm down, dear," one of the assistants said, rather unwisely in Ron's opinion…

Hermione let out another squeal of agony, before explaining to the assistant exactly what she thought of her advice, using a set of _very_ un-Hermioneish phrases.

"Come on, now, Hermione! Just a few more pushes! We can see the head!"

So could Ron, and he could also see a _lot _of blood… his head spun, but he was determined to stay conscious- he wasn't going to miss his first child's birth just because blood freaked him out! "One last push… you're almost there!"

Hermione gave one more almighty holler, before relaxing completely. Ron could see Healer Hopesmith holding something tiny, red and wailing…

"Congratulations! You have a beautiful baby daughter!"

Hermione's head spun as though she had been hit with a mallet. She had a daughter… a little girl…

"Where are you taking her?" she cried, as one of the assistants took the wailing baby over to the other side of the room. "What's wrong?"

"It's okay, sweetheart- they're just washing her…" Ron said, hovering around the assistant in an attempt to get a better look at his daughter. The assistant walked back over to Hermione and handed her the baby, wrapped up in a pink blanket.

"She's so tiny…" Hermione whispered, gazing at the little child lovingly with tears rolling down her cheeks. Ron put his arms around Hermione's shoulders, hugging her gently, and stroked his daughter's head tenderly.

"Don't cry," he whispered softly, hugging her harder. "Please stop crying…"

"Who are you talking to- me or her?" Hermione smiled, kissing him on the cheek. Ron didn't appear to have heard her.

"I have a daughter," he said, swallowing hard. "My little girl…"

Healer Hopesmith cleared her throat. "Do we have a name?" she asked with a smile.

"Agnes-Jeanette," Ron muttered, still transfixed by the baby in his wife's arms.

Hermione looked at the Healer.

"No."

Ginny and Harry came in just as Molly and Arthur were leaving. They had proclaimed that "Baby" looked exactly like Ron had when he was first born. It had taken a great effort to calm Molly down- she had burst into tears after she had held her grand-daughter for the first time. Even Arthur, who had considerably more emotional restraint, had still became slightly teary-eyed. They were also full of apologies for having missed all of the first eight hours at the hospital- they had arrived too late and the Healers wouldn't let them in, despite (or possibly because of) Molly's threats.

Ron handed the baby to Ginny, who was thrilled at the prospect of being an aunt. Harry hovered behind her, his face a mixture of delight and panic- Ron got the impression that he was worried about Ginny getting any ideas…

Hermione lay in the bed, much more awake now that the labour was over. It was as though the previous nine hours had never happened… she had a little baby girl, as yet un-named…

She turned to Ron, who was simultaneously gazing at his daughter in admiration and passing Ginny a tissue. "About the names… I like both of the choices- why don't you make the final decision?"

Ron swallowed nervously, slightly worried about the responsibility being placed on him- what if he picked the wrong one, causing his daughter to hate him for all of her adult life? He himself knew the stigma of a potentially hideous name- if it hadn't been for some swift intervention from his mother he would have been called Montgomery!

He looked between his daughter and his wife, before saying slowly, "Okay, everyone- say hello to Evelyn Weasley!"

Ginny gave him an odd look.

"What?" he replied disconcertedly.

"I dunno- it just doesn't… _feel_ right," she replied, waving her hand vaguely. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Okay," Hermione said resolutely, "we'll go with the other choice. Our daughter is Daisy."

There was a few seconds silence, before Harry replied slowly, "Daisy? Daisy _Weasley_?"

Ron let out a groan. "We didn't really think about that, did we?" he sighed, before turning to Harry and saying "Thanks for that, mate."

"So now what?" Ginny shrugged. "You still don't have a name… guess you'll just have to stay as Baby for a bit longer, huh, sweetheart?" she cooed, rocking her niece gently in her arms.

"How about Kyla?" Harry suggested.

"Too weird," Hermione replied.

"I like Margaret," Ginny put in.

"Too old fashioned!"

"I still like Agnes-Jeanette!"

"NO!"

"Zoë…Yolanda…Vicki…Tasha…Rachel…Rabia…Paisley…" Harry read, flipping through the name book.

"That's it!" Hermione yelled suddenly, sitting upright.

"Paisley Weasley?" Ginny said, confused.

"I don't think that'll work either, 'Mione..." Ron said with a smile.

"Not Paisley- _Rachel_!"

That evening led to an almost constant string of visitors, all eager to congratulate the new parents and to share their views on the child's resemblance. Mr and Mrs Granger arrived at about five o clock with several expensive gifts and the opinion that their granddaughter was the spitting image of Hermione. Percy, Bill, Charlie and assorted spouses all arrived at 6:21 on the dot, and proclaimed that, from what they could recall from their distant childhood memories the child was just like a little Ron, only without the red hair. A number of the Healers from Hermione's department popped in on their way home from work, filled with cooing and baby-talk and opinions over whether the poor darling was going to be cursed with Weasley hair, and the twins appeared at a ridiculously late hour with a rather dubious-looking teddy bear and declarations that their niece looked "just like our dear old Uncle Demetrius after his unfortunate outbreak of Snaggleworts". Ron did not take lightly, however, to his baby daughter being insulted, making Fred and George's visit rather brief. Hermione disposed of the teddy bear once they had left- she had given up all pretence of trusting their gifts.

"I'm exhausted," Ron said, looking into the darkened room- he had to go home for the night, and he was just dropping in to say goodbye before leaving. He waited for Hermione to reply, but she was fast asleep, her head drooped forward and her blankets rolled back. "I guess you are, too," he said, walking over towards her. He laid her head back against the pillows and pulled up her blankets, tucking them in around her. He watched her lying there, her eyelids flickering gently as she slept. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered under his breath as he leant in to kiss her on the cheek. "I couldn't do half of the things that you've done. I mean, I got freaked out just watching the birth… you actually had to go through it! But it was worth it, wasn't it? Now we have a daughter! Our little Rachel..."

He walked over to the crib where his daughter lay, sleeping like… well, like a baby. He reached out his hand, wondering whether or not he should touch her- he didn't want to wake her, after all…

Slowly he bent forward and touched her cheek silently, brushing a wisp of hair away from her eyes. She really did look like Hermione, Ron thought to himself. They have the same face- the same shape of eyes, the same fuzzy brown hair… he could have sworn that Rachel had given him Hermione's disapproving glare that afternoon when he had made a stupid joke!

Ron gently kissed Rachel on the cheek, before tiptoeing back towards the door. He felt as though he would never stop smiling. He had everything he wanted. A decent job, a nice flat, and the two people he loved more than anything else in the world- his daughter and his wife. He had a family.

The End

A/N- Okies, people- now that this is done, if you're looking for something else to read, hop on over and read my other fic, "Love, Or Something Like It", in which Ron visits Hermione in the summer and their relationship takes various twists and turns. It's better than this, I promise, and it's only two chapters in, so you haven't missed too much...go over and read it!

R&R and let me know how you liked this fic overall...there's a brief sequel to this which I can post if anyone's interested?


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